Therapy
by Angel Grrl and Devil Grrl
Summary: The staff at Hogwarts must undergo therapy via the departure of one Gilderoy Lockhart. R&R please. FLAMES ARE WELCOME!


A/N: Ok...after much searching...we have finally found an idea worthy enough to be the sequel to "Quack Quack" so, all my little evil ducklings (find your inner ducky on our webpage!) enjoy the sequel.  
  
Disclaimer: We own shit!  
  
"Therapy"  
By: Angel Grrl and Devil Grrl  
  
  
The students had just been loaded onto the scarlet red train, signaling the end of the year. None more glad than Professor Snape. The year had been a, well let's just say it, it was BLOODY AWFUL! I mean really, there was a gallant poof running around in pink robes dressing up poor defenseless little dwarves running around in those god-awful cupid costumes. They looked like they had come out of a cheap Ralph Bakshi cartoon for god's sake!   
  
(AN: Bakshi did "Cool World" "American Pop" and {my personal fave} "Fritz the Cat")  
  
But, alas the year of the Lockhart was at an end and Snape was allowed to be Snapey again. No more requests for love potions, no requests for pure bleach potion for his golden locks, and best of all, no more dueling club with inane wizards for whom the term "drop dead asshole" meant nothing.   
Snape was in heaven. This was better than torturing young Gryffindors, better than torturing young Potter...better than sex! Well, maybe not QUITE that good, but never the less...it was right up there with oxygen! He ran through the castle and started opening windows enjoying life! Life without Lockhart.  
As his little sprint was rounding a corner, he could hear McGonnagall (sp?) chirping happily in her office!   
  
"Free at last! Free at last! Thank God almighty, we are free at last!"   
  
(AN: This is from MLK's "I have a Dream" speech...we don't own it either. Please don't sue. We love this man!)  
  
Smiling as he made his way into the dungeons, a plan formed into his oily head...his eyes gleamed like two obsidians gems and he got a devil's grin. If there were an observer in the room, they would have compared his face to the Grinch in "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" same devious smile, and his hair even curled into two horns.   
Then it happened! Snape felt the feeling in the pit of his stomach...a feeling that could not be contained. What was this? Was it power coming forward from long since past? Was it a burst of energy that came from this wonderful knowledge? or was it just gas? No, it was just happiness.  
He smiled to himself and wandered down to the Great Hall where the headmaster would give his "see-you-next-summer-and-don't-get-into-trouble" speech. Always a treat this was, but then again, so was getting a root canal.  
Approaching the doors to the hall fast, he stopped and wondered to himself if this would put a damper on his day. He hoped not.  
  
'What's that old saying? "Hope in one hand and shit in the other, and see which one piles up first?"'  
  
He shrugged to himself, took a deep breath, and opened the door. There sat the staff of Hogwarts, same as always, not dressed any different and yet they were sitting in a circle. There was one empty chair and it was seated next to...a stranger? A new witch with horn-rimmed glasses, bright green robes and fire-engine red lipstick. She was smiling at him, but she seemed to be having a hard time keeping her mouth closed. Suddenly the answer, was very clear.  
  
"Welcome, Sevaruth. I'm tho glad you could join uth,"  
  
Gleaming in the soft magical sunlight that shone from the ceiling were her braces. Two giant honking braces. The kind you saw in horror movies...only worse.   
  
'I bet she gets great reception,' he thought.  
  
She smiled at him, completely ignorant of his thoughts. The poor unknowing thing, what horrors would await her. Little does she know that on the coast of Amity Island, Jaws was swimming around looking for the whore that stole his teeth! (THWACK! Angel is getting a little strung out right now, I shall take over!) While there was NO shark, (DAMN!) she did make Jaws from James Bond rather jealous of her headgear!   
  
(AN: Ok peeps! we have a friend who has braces. We're not making fun of them...just those suped-up head-gear from sci-fi land braces! ok? chill!)  
  
"Severuth, wath there thumthing you would like to sthare?"  
  
He merely stared at her in wonderment.   
  
'There is not a human on Earth, that needs THAT much metal on his/her cranium,'  
  
He blinked.   
  
"Severuth?"   
  
Coming out of his stupor, he shook his head and came slowly back to reality.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Wath there thumthing you wanted to thay?"  
  
"Yeah, what the hell's the matter with you people? This is a walking talking potato for cripes' sake! There's still tin foil on her!"  
  
"Now Now, Severus! Relax, she's our therapist. She's here to help and be our friend,"  
  
Snape looked towards the head of Hufflepuff house, Professor Sprout, who was nervously looking towards.  
  
"By any chance, how was your poppy crop this year?"  
  
Professor Sprout glared at the man in disgust. However, attention was drawn away from the ranting Snape as the therapist clapped her hands together, signaling the start of the session.  
  
"What was that for? I'm not your bitch,"  
  
"MINERVA!"  
  
"Well, I'm no dog. I will not be clapped to,"  
  
The therapist cleared her throat, clearly making her disapproval of the head-mistress' behaviour. (LIKE SHE CARES!) She smiled thinly at the other professors as she waited for Snape to finally sit down in his chair. She looked upwards at him, pleading with her eyes.  
He reluctantly sat down next to the woman-who-would-be-the-first-to-make-contact-with-alien-life and crossed his legs in annoyance. The therapist was very relieved.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Severuth. Now our thession can begin. Hello, I'm Mth. Hornthwattle. And now please introduce yourselves to the group,"  
  
Snape was the first to speak.  
  
"You chit! We already know one another! We work together for cripes' sake!"  
  
"Yeth, but we must let the group know one another ath a whole,"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Sensing that this was a bad idea, considering the death glares coming from the two professors. She quickly changed the subject.   
  
"How about we start off with a small mental hug. We must acthentuate the positive and eliminate the negative,"  
  
"If you say, 'don't mess with mr. in-between', I'm gonna bitch-slap you,"  
  
"DUMBLEDORE!"  
  
"I like that song!"  
  
"No, that's not what we're going to do. Just look at yourselves and say, 'I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it people like me!' Go on! Say it to yourselves and begin the healing process,"  
  
"We were traumatized, not fucked-up! All we need is a stiff drink and a good lay. ok???"  
  
"No, no. You see friendth, thith is what we call 'denial',"  
  
"Um, excuse me?"  
  
For the first time, Hagrid spoke up.   
  
"Uh, yeth thir?"  
  
Very carefully, Hagrid stood up and looked at the lady. It didn't help that he was momentarily blinded by the light glinting off of the metallic-gear on her head!  
  
"Maybe we should just skip right ter the lesson, eh?"  
  
"Yeth, yeth, that ith a wonderful idea, Mr. Hagrid. We shall do that,"  
  
Satisfied, Hagrid sat down and prayed to whatever holy persona was listening that maybe the therapist would get a clue and leave them alone with her inane comments and suggestions. However, on this particular day, God wasn't taking any calls.  
  
"Now, I would like to begin todayth thession with a little group thong,"  
  
"HELL FUCKING NO!"  
  
"Minerva!"  
  
"You're not getting me into a thong! Nuh-uh! No way! No how! I don't care! NO!"  
  
"No! A THONG not a thong!"  
  
Snape took this opportunity to express his translitive theory.  
  
"What? You mean like a la-dee-da thong or like a "ow! the crack of my ass!" thong?"  
  
McGonagall had already risen from her chair and was heading for the doorway. Only professors Sprout and Hagrid tried to stop her from leaving. The sound of threats that sounded EXTREMELY unpleasant wafted through the shouts and met Snape's ears. He cringed and crossed his legs tighter together. Dumbledore sighed to himself and looked at the chaos that the therapy session had created. Ah, yes, Mr. Lockhart was proving to have done more damage by leaving than by staying in the first place. Looking over to his right, he watched McGonagall try to duck between Hagrid's legs, the threat of a thong still hanging in her mind. And yet through this whole ordeal,one thing remained.  
  
I am Dumbledore's complete lack of surprise.   
  
  
to be continued...^_^ We evil! We bad! We tired! review...and we write more. don't review...and you suck. flame us...and we have cookout and smoke doobies.   
  
If you would like us to continue with the insanity, just fill in the little blue pop-up box. Thank you!  
  
Remember these words of wisdom: Fear leads to anger, anger leads to stress, stress leads to doobies, and doobies lead to twinkies. Enjoy!  
  
May the schwartz be with you! Spaceballs rules! 


End file.
